


Duscur Flowers

by LightningNymph



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bernadetta von Varley Needs a Hug, Dedue Rarepair Weekend 2020, F/M, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27488479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningNymph/pseuds/LightningNymph
Summary: Written for Dedue Rarepair Weekend 2020 on Twitter.Friday, November 13: Blooming *Gentle*Bakery AU“Um, er. Would you—um, I mean—”Dedue turned to look at her. Bernadetta stammered, looking away, and shifted her weight. For a moment, he was convinced that she was going to run away, but she pressed on.“Could you tell me a—about the flowers?” she asked, clutching at her watering can.
Relationships: Dedue Molinaro/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	Duscur Flowers

The Duscur flowers in their corner of the greenhouse were still there, even after five years. Dedue stood and stared at them, surprised by that fact. He hadn’t expected anyone to have bothered taking care of them, after all.

A closer look revealed them to be well-cared-for, surprisingly. Not even overwatered, even though normally, anyone used to Faerghus flowers would have drowned them by accident. Someone with skill at gardening had evidently found them and decided to keep them around.

As he puzzled over this, a loud scream and a clatter had him leap to his feet, habitually reaching for the war-axe he didn’t normally wear in the monastery, when he found Bernadetta there, shaking on her feet like a newborn foal.

“I-I’m sorry!” she wailed, scrambling to pick up the watering can she’d dropped. “I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry for interrupting—”

“Please calm down,” Dedue said, lowering his voice to hopefully not scare her off—he remembered how skittish she’d been at the Academy, and the years evidently hadn’t changed her much in that respect.

“—should never have touched your flowers,” she went on, evidently too caught up to hear him, “and I know they were special to you but they looked so sad without someone to look after them so I—”

“You were the one to care for them?” Dedue asked, surprised.

Bernadetta made a choked sound before turning on her heel and running off, yelling out an “I’m sorryyyyy!”

...that was not how he’d planned it. Was he truly that scary?

⁂

A week after the greenhouse incident, Dedue knocked on Bernadetta’s door.

“Bernie’s not here!”

...evidently, she was.

Dedue paused, speaking up after a moment. “I brought you some cake.”

“C-cake?!” Bernadetta yelped. “Why would you do that?!”

“I came to thank you.”

“Th- _thank_ me?”

After a long moment, the door opened at a crack, and Bernadetta peered out, fear and suspicion on what could be seen of her face.

“You took care of the flowers for me while I was away,” Dedue said. “They’re very dear to me, so I came to thank you.”

“I—really?” Bernadetta asked, surprised. “But I—I didn’t even do that much, I just made sure they didn’t get too much water...”

“You still took care of them,” Dedue said. “I thought they would have gone by now, but thanks to you, they’re still there.”

“I... wow,” she breathed, looking down. “Um, well... thank you. Could you... put the plate down? I’ll, um. I’ll get it in a bit.” The door closed, and judging by the sound, she sat down directly behind it.

...she had always been rather strange, as he recalled.

Still, Dedue put the plate down and walked off, making sure to make a bit of noise as he left. When he glanced around, the door opened, and she reached out from her room to grab the plate.

Relieved, Dedue smiled to himself as he walked towards the greenhouse.

⁂

A high-pitched fearful yelp alerted Dedue to Bernadetta’s arrival in the greenhouse. She stood there trembling, having apparently noticed him, but did not run this time.

“Good morning,” he said simply, turning around to face the flowers again.

“G-good morning,” she squeaked. “I, um. I came to see the flowers.”

“I see,” Dedue said, carefully draping a potted passiflora over a trellis.

“Um, er. Would you—um, I mean—”

Dedue turned to look at her. Bernadetta stammered, looking away, and shifted her weight. For a moment, he was convinced that she was going to run away, but she pressed on.

“Could you tell me a—about the flowers?” she asked, clutching at her watering can.

“The flowers?” Dedue asked, caught off-guard.

“I mean—” Bernadetta stammered. “The ones from—from Duscur. The ones here are really pretty, and I’d like to know more about them. If—if you’ve got time,” she added, fidgeting anxiously. “I mean, I’d help, of course, but—”

“Of course,” Dedue said, nodding.

“R-really?” Bernadetta asked, lighting up. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

⁂

“Do you miss it?” Bernadetta asked quietly out of nowhere. She kept her eyes fixed on the hydrangea shrub they had been pruning, biting her lip anxiously.

“What you mean?” Dedue asked, looking at her.

“I mean...” Bernadetta ducked behind the leaves, busying herself with picking up some of the fallen clippings. “I mean—you always seem happy to talk about the flowers with me. And you’ve cared for the ones here all this time. Do you—um—do you miss the ones there? In... in Duscur?”

Dedue froze for a moment, staring at the plant. “Sometimes,” he said then, snipping off a stem. “But it’s not much use dwelling on it. The flower fields I remember were trampled years ago.”

Bernadetta fidgeted anxiously, taking a breath every now and then as if to say something, but letting it go after a few seconds.

As they were sweeping the floor after finishing the trimming, Bernadetta finally cleared her throat.

“When the war is over... please take me to Duscur,” she said, firm tone undercut by an anxious squeak at the end of her sentence.

“To Duscur?”

“See, I’ve been thinking,” Bernadetta said, “and while it’s true that the fields you remembered got trampled, that doesn’t mean they’re _gone_ , right? I mean,” her voice quivered for a second, “when I got back to Garreg Mach and found your flowers in the greenhouse, they were in bad shape. People hadn’t taken care of anything. _But_ ,” she said, “but I tried to look after them anyway, and they got better with care. They didn’t get back to the way they were before, but they survived, and they grew back. And—and Duscur could be like that, too. Flowers grow back, right? So would you show me all the flowers you’ve told me about? _Please_ ?” she squeaked.

For a moment, Dedue could only stare, processing her words. Just when her fidgeting almost reached the point where she normally would have run off in fear, he smiled at her.

“If you would allow it, I would love to.”

Bernadetta sighed in relief, a smile creeping onto her face. “Thank you, Dedue!”

⁂

“It’s even more beautiful than I’d imagined,” Bernadetta said, smiling at the field of wildflowers in front of her.

The years had changed the wildflower fields of his youth—the pathways through the flowers, eroded from countless villagers taking walks, had gone, and there were a few new flowers he hadn’t seen here before.

Still, the familiarity had eased a part of his heart he hadn’t realized was aching. They weren’t the same flowers he remembered, but neither was it the barren wasteland he’d seen last.

“Come on,” Bernadetta said, reaching out and taking his hand, “tell me about the flowers here!”

“You’ve seen most of these in the greenhouse,” Dedue said, even as he let her take him along.

“Tell me anyway,” Bernadetta said. “I like to listen to you.”

“You do?”

Abruptly, Bernadetta froze in place, face turning red as she realized what she said. “Um, I mean—well, I do, but um... oh no,” she groaned.

Dedue gave her hand a gentle squeeze, causing her to look up, startled.

“I’d love to tell you about them again,” Dedue said.

Relieved, Bernadetta smiled at him. “Show me all the flowers in Duscur, and don’t leave my side.”


End file.
